Summer’s easy
Now that daffodils have faded we are faced with the telling dilemma of what to do with all that lush foliage. Whack it down immediately? Twist and tie it into cunning little braids or loops? (Gardening personality hint: If you have the time and patience for this, you might also enjoy training little topiary Christmas trees out of rosemary, sculpting fanciful hedges from privet or holly, or fussing about with hybrid tea roses.) Or shall we let it lie?
Those of us who pick the latter will score at the other end of the personality scale from the braiders and whackers. But in this case, as in so many others, there’s a genuine horticultural rationale for taking it easy in the garden. As long as leaves are green, they feed the roots for next year, so premature removal (along with constriction with rubber bands—ouch!) starves and stresses the plant. Noted Batesville gardener Cid Scallett religiously waits until June 10 to clean out what has not already melted away from the 10,000 daffodils he nurtures in his woodland garden.
Proper placement makes it easier to leave the foliage up longer. A drift of 50 to 100 or more bulbs naturalized in a lawn cries out to the turf lover to be cut with the first revving of the mower lest unsightly tufts mar the smoothness of the sacred sward. Better to spare the sensibilities of the lawn people and avoid the Mohawk look by concentrating masses of bulbs along the edges of turf instead of right down the middle.
In perennial beds or mixed borders, once reedy daffodil leaves begin leaning over, just bend them gently down along the ground in between the other plants that are coming up and let them rot into the soil. Hostas, daylilies, ferns and sedums are helpful in hiding decaying bulb foliage.
Lawn people, obvious control freaks all, can take a lesson from the daffodils and try to restrain themselves from scalping grass below two inches. Turf grass is made up of multitudes of individual plants, each of which is desperately trying to produce chlorophyll with its leaves to feed its roots. Give the little guys a break.
Our prolonged cool spring gives with one storm and takes away with another. The groundwater is recharging, the creeks are running and it was a good long season for Virginia bluebells and bleeding hearts, but the zinnia and nasturtium seeds just sit in the cold soil, the tomatoes haven’t grown an inch and high winds tore the azaleas into confetti.
Cool wet weather is the perfect incubator for the dreaded dogwood anthracnose, a fungal disease that causes reddish-brown splotches on leaves and twigs and can eventually destroy the tree. Spots restricted to leaves are less dangerous, but if you see small twigs and suckers drooping and discolored, you’ve got trouble.
Plant new dogwoods in sunny open spots with good air circulation and don’t spread the spores by pruning during wet weather. Wait until mid-summer or mid-winter to cut out suckers and crowded branches if necessary. Keep a generous mulch ring around the trunk, at least out to the edge of the branches, to keep mowers and weed eaters from nicking the bark.
This will be the third summer I’ve mulched the vegetable/cutting garden with newspaper and straw and I can’t imagine doing it any other way now. Regular rows of plants and seeds best suit this method. A few sections deep of newsprint wetted down and topped with straw pretty much eliminate weeding and add to the soil as they decay over winter. What could be easier?—Cathy Clary
Sun lovers
Hens-and-chicks is the pet name for small succulents in the Crassulaceae family, which grow close to the ground in leafy rosettes. Care is easy, with over-watering being the most damaging mistake. Otherwise, well-drained soil and lots of sunlight are all these plants require. They have a high tolerance for heat and drought so can be ideal plants for patios or terraces during the summer.
Hen-and-chicks are entirely self-propagating. The “chicks” will remain attached to the “hen” plant until removed, and once removed they will begin the process again. It’s worth encouraging chicks, as adult plants rarely last for more than three or four years. Mature hen plants herald their own demise by flowering dramatically before dying.—Lily Robertson
June in the garden
-Let daffodil leaves ripen
-Keep an eye on dogwoods
-Recycle newspapers to garden